


Say You're Mine (Hands Intertwined)

by inkjoy



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Dahlia and Duke Rose return, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, To keep their cover of course, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 14:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkjoy/pseuds/inkjoy
Summary: Dahlia and Duke Rose go back undercover.Juno is overwhelmed by Peter's.... everything, and Peter can't keep his hands off Juno (not that he minds).





	Say You're Mine (Hands Intertwined)

**Author's Note:**

> Penumbra has consumed me so have this.

Juno wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here.

Here, being on the arm of a master thief and pretending to be married to him. Again. Nureyev had insisted that the only way that the woman they were after was going to let her guard down is if they were guests to her 64th. Birthday Extravaganza.

Juno didn’t quite make the connection, but he’d let himself be dragged along anyway. It was hard to say no when Nureyev was grinning, sharp teeth on display, not breaking eye contact as he slid the shirt from his shoulders and…. Well, needless to say Juno had been thoroughly convinced at the time. He was kind of regretting that now.

They had resurrected the old roles of Dahlia and Duke Rose. Nureyev had somehow managed to score an invitation, probably with a quirk of his lips and words dripping in honey. Not that he cared if the guy was out there flirting with other people. Okay, he cared a little, but it was justified. Nureyev was his. His partner. In the heist.

Right.

Now they’re here, at the party. Party seemed to be too basic a word for the event actually. An entire mansion decked out with the most extravagance he’d seen since the Kanagawa mansion. Tiny lights decked out on every ceiling, creating a bright, sparkling view as if the stars had all shrunk and taken residence in the mansion just for the sake of the party. The main room was a huge hall lined with delicacies along the sides, with solid gold cutlery and crystal champagne glasses. Inexplicitly, a disco ball hung from the centre of the ceiling, it’s sparkles almost drowned out by the rest of the lights. It was extravagant, yes. Tasteful? Not so much.

People from all across the galaxy dressed up in their finest clothes; silk and lace draped across their bodies as jewels dripped from their bodies in a dazzling display. Juno probably made less in a year than what any one of them wore just on their necks. They were all laughing and dancing, and every face was alight with joy.

Almost every face.

“Charming.” Juno muttered, shifting a little closer to Nureyev with the hand he had tucked into the crook of his elbow to avoid being stood on by a passing group of drunk, giggling women.

“Isn’t it just?”

As opposed to his own derisive comment, Nureyev sounded utterly enthralled by the glitz and glamour of the event. To be fair, he looked like he belonged in a place like this. In fact, Juno would have gone as far to say he outshone most, if not all of the people there. He wore a tight-fitting suit that was partially unbuttoned to droop low in the front, with coat tails billowing out the back. It was in a deep blue that looked striking against his pale skin. His pants had to be tailored, because they moulded to every curve so well that Juno temporarily lost the ability to breathe the first time he saw the man wearing them. Once Nureyev had stopped laughing, he seemed to have found his coughing fit strangely endearing.

Even his makeup was flawless. Dark lines cutting across his eyes in sharp angles, his lips popping due to the dash of red across them, and his cheekbones glittered when he turned his face at a certain angle. He looked, to put it simply, divine.

To put it less simply, Juno felt like he was drinking in the secrets of the universe in the curve of his waist, the cut of his jaw and the brilliant shine of his eyes that sparkle with the fact that he will always, _always_, know more than you. He was the burn of a thousand suns even when you relished in the warmth; he was the allure of a black hole despite the imminent destruction when you drift a little too close; he was everything you wanted and nothing you could touch.

And he was far too impeccable to be seen arm in arm with the likes of Juno Steel, that’s for sure. Yet, there he was.

Juno had to resist the urge to tug at the salamander orange dress he was wearing. A complimentary colour to Nureyev’s own outfit, of course. He hadn’t even picked it out himself. Nureyev had just delivered it to him in a box with a pair of black heels and a wink.

They made their way through the party, nodding and smiling at people when it seemed polite.

“Dahlia, my dear,” Nureyev said, amused but a hint of warning to his tone, “if your smile becomes any faker, people are going to start questioning whether or not you really want to be here.”

“Well, I _don’t _want to be here,” Juno pointed out.

There was a smile in Nureyev’s voice when he responded, “Nonsense. Everyone wants to be at a Vivian Pilter party. And those who don’t, don’t tend to last very long, if you catch my drift.”

Great. So he had to like being at a party he most definitely didn’t want to be at, or die what was probably a painful and gruesome death and end up served as canapes at her next party. Lovely choices.

He tried to twist his expression into something a little more genuine. Judging by the horrified gasp of the woman that had been approaching them only to hurry away in the opposite direction, he must not have succeeded.

“Right,” Nureyev said decisively, “Let’s dance.”

“Oh, no,” Juno said, “no, no, no, no. Ah, damn it.”

In the time it had taken him to make all of his denials, he had already been guided out onto the dance floor. Peter took his hand in his and pulled him in close. With him in heels and Peter flat-footed in stylish, yet functional dress shoes, they were almost a level height. This was terrible, because it allowed him to see all the better the depth and shine of his eyes, and the tempting red of his lips only scant inches from his own.

“Eyes up here, darling,” Peter chided, sounding amused.

Juno flushed, “I wasn’t, I mean…”

Peter shushed him gently. He pulled Juno’s hand until it rested on his shoulder and placed his own spare hand on Juno’s waist. It felt like a brand, warmth seeping through the thin material and onto his skin. His face was going to stay red forever at this rate.

“Why do you get to lead?” Juno grumbled, and was stalwartly ignored.

Peter led them in a slow waltz around the room. Despite appearances, Juno did know how to dance, and he could even do it quite well. He could tell from Peter’s quirked eyebrow that the knowledge surprised him, but he didn’t mention it. Only spun Juno out with one arm, the room passing by in a whirl of colour and motion and then pulled back in to the solid breadth of Peter’s chest.

This close, all he could smell was that damn tantalising cologne Peter liked to use. It filled him up and left him wanting more. For one delirium ridden moment, he considered leaning in and placing his face against Peter’s neck, pressing his lips onto his perfect, pale skin and inhaling it from the source.

He wouldn’t do that though, because he did have some sense of self-preservation. Not that he thought Peter would mind, the opposite really. Juno would never live it down.

Honestly, Peter should do something about smelling so nice. It couldn’t be good for a master thief to be so unforgettable, with his cologne and his hair and his… everything. It sounded a little problematic with his line of work.

Unaware of his spiralling thoughts, Peter leaned down ever so slightly until his mouth was grazing the edges of Juno’s ear and sending lightning down his spine.

“By the doorway on the left," he breathed, hot breath on his neck causing goose bumps to flourish across his skin and his breath to stutter in his throat.

“What?” Juno said.

“Our target,” Peter reminded him, “She’s talking to some old politician by the door. Here, look.”

They turned as naturally as they had been for the entire time they’d been dancing, but now Juno had a good view of the door and spotted the birthday girl in question. If he was being completely honest, which he rarely was, he would admit he had completely forgotten about the mission; lost entirely in the allure of one Peter Nureyev.

Luckily, Peter would never know this.

“Right, the target," he said, refocusing. “I don’t recognise who she’s talking too. Maybe we should go introduce ourselves, see if she’ll let anything slip about the missing person.”

Peter sighed. “Ah, and I was so enjoying our dance. Perhaps we can revisit this another time then. In the privacy of your home, perhaps.”

Juno stood on his foot in reply, relishing in Peter’s grunt of pain just a little. The two broke apart, Juno’s hand finding the crook of Peter’s elbow once more and the two made their way across the room.

Vivian looked every inch the woman she was said to be. Her lacy, scandalously low gown couldn’t hide muscled shoulders and a shrewd mouth. She hadn’t aged terribly well either, stress lines cutting deeply into her face.

For someone who’s parties were so illustrious they attracted everyone of high class from royalty, to important dignitaries, to the current mayor of Hyperion City, she sure didn’t seem to be having a good time.

The man she was with stalked off with a huff before they reached the doorway where they lingered. Vivian turned around, muttering a string of impressively creative curses under her breath until she spotted them, the notably annoyed expression across her face quickly replaced with a smile as fake as one of Juno’s.

“Someone sure looks happy to see us,” Juno said under his breath.

Peter smiled benignly at Vivian, even as he subtly elbowed Juno in the side.

“Why, hello there!” Peter crowed before Juno could elbow back, “If it isn’t the woman of the hour. Vivian Pilter right in front of my eyes.”

She didn’t look impressed, but maybe that was just her default expression. Or maybe it was just hard to impress a woman who had already seen everyone and everything and bought it all.

“And you are?”

“Oh, silly me,” Peter crooned, pushing charm so strongly Juno wouldn’t be surprised if he started batting his eyelashes. “We haven’t even introduced ourselves. I’m Duke Rose, and the lovely lady is my partner Dahlia.”

“Hi,” Juno said, barely remembering to smile. It wasn’t as blinding as Peter’s, but he felt he did okay. Especially with the feelings surging up inside his chest at being called Peter’s partner. Wait, no, Duke’s partner. Either way, hearing Peter talk about them as a pair, where one went the other followed, it made him feel strange inside. Like a mess of squirming vipers had taken residence in his chest.

“Of course,” Vivian said, her smile shifting into something slyer, “I remember. Your art collection was ever so impressive, Mr Duke. I would love a more, how do you say, _private _showing one of these days.” There was a flush of red on her cheeks and she looked Peter up and down like he was a piece of meat and she was eager for a meal.

Juno could barely believe her audacity to flirt so blatantly in front of him. He opened his mouth, and would have most likely gotten them kicked out of the party, when Peter pulled his arm away from Juno, whose hand fell back to his side. For a moment, a coldness seeped in and a flicker of fear formed when he thought Peter might take her up on her offer. Not that old, probably evil women were his usual type, but perhaps he would make an exception in order to solve the case.

A second later Juno felt foolish, because Peter was only shifting his arm to wrap around Juno’s waist, low on his hips. It was proprietary, it was possessive, and it made heat boil under his skin.

“I’m afraid my partner and I are going on a trip together soon, so I won’t have the time. We’re coming up to our one-year wedding anniversary, you know,” Peter lied brazenly, still smiling.

Vivian looked affronted at the rejection. Juno wanted to do something petty like stick his tongue out at her. He felt like a kid on a playground yelling _finders keepers_. He had found Peter first and he was planning on keeping him.

Another man, this one in a finely tailored suit who could have been just another guest if it wasn’t for the ear piece he wore marking him as one of the security guards. He leaned over and whispered something in Vivian’s ear.

She straightened, eyes narrowing. “I’m afraid some business has come up, but I do hope you two enjoy the remainder of the party.”

Juno wrapped his own arm around Peter. “I’m sure _we_will," he said, grinning more sincerely than he had the entire night.

He can’t be entirely sure he saw her eye twitch or if he imagined it. Either way he felt satisfied as she huffed and left, heels clicking along the floor.

“What was _that_?” Peter asked in amazement. His eyes were bright with unrestrained glee.

“What was what?”

“That!” Peter waved after her. “For a moment there, dear, I could have sworn you looked jealous of little ole’ me.”

For the millionth time in Peter’s presence, his face lit up like a stoplight. “Of course not, that would be ridiculous. It’s me you’re here with and me you’re going home with – according to our cover of course. Because we’re married. Not for any other reason.” Juno coughed. “Anyway, we should probably follow her.”

Peter looked at him, eyes fond and smile warm enough to bask in. Sometimes he was so beautiful Juno wanted to become a thief himself and steal that smile for himself, and lock it away with all of Peter’s stolen art so that Juno could admire him for the rest of his life.

“Whatever you say, my dear.”

It was not hard to sneak out of the party and follow Vivian down the hall. She ducked through a doorway with her security member and the door closed behind them.

They crept closer and as they did, they could hear what was being said inside. As expensive as this place had to have been, Juno would have thought they’d have better sound-proofing.

“Well, what’s the issue?” Vivian was saying.

“It’s the scientist,” an unfamiliar voice said. “We need to move them as soon as possible, I’ve heard rumours that a detective is sniffing around the murders and missing persons and trying to find the person responsible.”

“How dare they! I’ve worked hard for this business,” Vivian raged, “I won’t have them ruin that just because a few people died.” Her voice turned woeful, “If only they could understand, your beauty is built on the sacrifice of other people. I need to look young again, I _need_it.”

The way minds of criminals worked would always be beyond Juno. Luckily, he didn’t have to understand them to apprehend them.

“We’ll move all of the evidence to the truck outside and head out in the morning to destroy it.” The guard said.

“Take the scientist with you. He’s been no help, just like all the others.” She sniffed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

From beside him, Peter whispered. “It’s like they’re trying to make it easy for us.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“I expect all of this to be put in the past, and I want that detective killed the first chance you get. You understand?” Vivian said.

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard repeated.

“Good, you head back to the party. Make sure no one throws up in my vases again. They’re worth nearly seventy thousand creds and regurgitated carrots just don’t wash out. I’ll re-join the party once I finish my drink.”

Juno reeled back and pulled Peter with him. Footsteps moved towards the door. There was only one other door along the hallway and it was locked. There wasn’t any time to unlock it, even with Peter’s quick fingers, and they would never make it down the hallway without being spotted. It would look mighty suspicious if they were caught just hanging around in random hallways without reason, and Juno wasn’t exactly keen to be shot at tonight. He liked this dress and it was a pain to run in heels.

His mind struggled to find a solution. He didn’t find one.

But Peter did.

Two steady hands gripped his waist in a firm hold. He was pressed back into the wall and a warm, wet mouth descended on his. Juno gasped, and it the sound was swallowed by a hungry kiss, and a tongue tracing along his bottom lip. Juno opened up and the kiss grew wetter and dirtier. Juno wasn’t sure what was going on, or even which way was up at this point, but he sure wasn’t complaining.

His own hands reached up. One found a place sliding up the firm muscles of Peter’s back and the other cupped his cheek, shifting the angle into something more comfortable. In the back of his mind he knew he should be worried about the guard, yet his mind was consumed with the thoughts of the man currently stealing the air from his lungs.

Peter. Peter. _Peter._

His hands, so strong and now sliding over the silk of his dress. His mouth, wet and perfect on his. His body, perfectly shaped to fit against his, like two pieces of a broken puzzle. Neither quite right but strangely, perfectly, fitting together anyway. His mind was dizzy with the influx of sensation.

He could have stayed there for hours, trading kisses back and forth with wandering hands and kisses now trailing down his neck and his heart pounding and his mouth opening to say– 

“Excuse me.” The security guard coughed rather pointedly.

Peter pulled back and the world rushed in to fill the spaces. He didn’t remove his hands from Juno’s body. That was probably for the best though, because Juno wasn’t sure his legs would support him just yet. He had never been so thoroughly kissed – no, devoured – in his life.

“Party is back that way, folks.” The guard said, looking slightly to the left of them with a grimace. “If you want some… privacy, there are private rooms available upstairs, however this corridor is restricted so I am going to have to ask you leave.”

Well, Vivian’s parties really did have everything.

“Why, of course, I am so terribly sorry,” Peter said, sounding remarkably unaffected if one didn’t know what to look for. Juno did. He could see the flush on his cheeks, the way his breath fell a little harder than usual, the crumpled lines of his shirt where Juno’s hands had been pulling at it.

“We’ll just be on our way then, come on Dahlia, sweetheart.” Peter offers his arm again, as if they hadn’t just made out like teenagers in public. As if he hadn’t knocked Juno off of his axis and sent him spinning into the depths of desire without a seconds warning.

The door to the office opens again, and Vivian steps out. “What’s going on? I heard people talking. No one should be on this floor.”

Juno noticed the second Vivian eyes fell onto their forms and takes in the rumpled clothing and swollen lips. She looked like she had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon.

“We just got a little caught up in the moment,” Juno said, bypassing Peter’s arm to lean up the scant inch between them and press a lingering kiss to his mouth. He glanced back at Vivian. She looked as if steam would start pouring from her ears any second. “Let’s go somewhere more private then Duke, I don’t want to be kept waiting.”

He wrapped his own arm around Peter, who was looking surprised yet pleased with his actions, eyes half-lidded in a way that said their night wasn’t over yet. Juno felt smug, knowing he had made his point.

“Lead onwards, my dear.” Peter said, not looking away from Juno to even say goodbye to Vivian, just waving a hand half-heartedly over his shoulder. “We’ll be going now, bye-bye.”

They strolled out into the party once more. The reality of the situation was catching up to Juno and he pulled his arm back.

“Ah, and I was so enjoying your attention,” Peter said.

Juno took a moment to smooth out his dress from where it had ridden up a little and avoided Peter’s knowing gaze. “What was all that back there. Just kissing me in the middle of nowhere like that, it was – it was – ”

“It was…?” Peter prompted.

Enthralling. Magical. Engrossing. Alluring. Hot. Like every nerve in his body was still searing in the aftermath.

“It doesn’t matter.” Juno said instead. “What matters is getting the scientist and hopefully the evidence Vivian was talking about as well. We should go now before something else happens.”

“I don’t suppose I could tempt you into one last dance before we go?”

“No.” Juno said.

Peters sighed over theatrically. “Well, at least I tried. Dancing with you is oh, so pleasant too. Still, not as pleasant as – ”

“Don’t.” His face flared.

“Fine, fine.” Peter acquiesced, then took Juno’s hand in his own. It was warm, and his fingers slotted comfortably between his own.

Juno rolled his eyes, “Seriously?”

“It’s for our cover, Juno. I’m sure you can appreciate that, at least.”

Juno looked down at their intertwined hands, and then back up to Peter. It seemed like every time he looked at the man, Peter was already looking back. “Just for the cover?” He asked, almost regretting the question immediately.

There was a pause that was probably only a couple of seconds and felt like the most excruciatingly long wait of his life. He was about to make a joke and try and take it back when Peter’s hand squeezed his own.

“No,” Peter said, “not just for the cover.”

Ducking his head to hide his smile, he pulled on their joined hands. “Come on then, we should go, before Vivian realising we aren’t who we said we are.’

“Of course, dear.” Peter said, and followed along.

**Author's Note:**

> Where does this fit in the timeline? There's like no plot, did you write this just to make Peter and Juno make out against a wall to 'keep their cover'? Good fucking question and you bet I did.  
Hope you liked it.


End file.
